


Beat Me

by waitingforthehogwartsletter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforthehogwartsletter/pseuds/waitingforthehogwartsletter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke has four months to prove the New Ark Magazine that she's good enough to write the articles within its pages. But, good enough won't suffice this time - Bellamy Blake is here, and he's here to stay. To beat him and get the job, Clarke has to be the best.</p>
<p>Who's going to beat who? And what might she lose in the battle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat Me

**Author's Note:**

> Each of the parts (I won't call them chapters because they're just word vomits) will be short (well... shorter than my usual text-monsters) and not at all professionally done. I've never done a multi-fic - no, wait, I have, I just haven't ever finished one. So yeah, I'm typing this out before the inspiration flies away.   
> Not the best plan, but seriously, who the hell cares?

The thing about competing for a job at the New Ark magazine was the fact that you had to go up against Raven Reyes, the genius with an unofficial team of brainiacs behind her back (G&G they'd called them, even though while Green was an actual name, Goggles was more of an adaptive nickname), Finn Collins, the free spirit with the bright eyes and wide horizons (everyone said he'd make it a through one day, but Clarke thought his concentration was, if anything, lacking), and lastly, but probably more important than anyone else (who was she kidding – he was the only true competition for her), Bellamy Blake, the charming motherfucker extraordinaire.

„Finn said he'd bring the doughnuts.“, Raven hushed as she slipped quietly into the office that morning – she wasn't a morning person. „But I had my doubts.“

The woman dropped a pink box on Clarke's desk and opened it with her pinkie. Clarke's eyes ran from the boy to Raven's pale, tired face, hair tied tightly in a high ponytail that was slowly becoming her trademark.

„Thanks.“, Clarke said, a tiny smile on her lips as she tried to nonchalantly lower the open document on her computer screen. Raven was fast, not as much in the morning though, but still a lot faster than Clarke ever was. She bolted to the blonde's side in a matter of seconds, leaning down and swatting at Clarke's hand over the keyboard.

Her eyes widened. „Holy shit.“, she straightened up and glowered at Clarke. „You lucky bitch!“

„Don't tell?“, Clarke squeaked, blushing furiously. „I'd hate to have _him_ take over this one, Raven, he can't – „

„Yeah, yeah, I'll keep your secret, whatever.“, Raven sighed and directed one more longing look at Clarke's screen. „You're bringing donuts for the next two weeks, though.“

Clarke didn't even bother complaining, a smile firm on her lips as Raven left for her desk.

The thing about competing for a job at the New Ark magazine was the fact that you had three months to get used to amazing people that you're imminently going to lose, one way or another.

She hoped Raven, and maybe even her little nerds, G&G, wouldn't be like that – but she knew plenty about hope, and that knowledge made hers wither easily.

„What have you got, Griffin?“

It was around the usual pre-lunch break buzz that the snarling had interrupted her careful scheming for the hot-shot article she was making. With a pinch of luck, she'd get the top score on this one.

„Why don't you go sniff around someone else, _Blake_?“, she snarled back, not bothering with looking up at his intimidating persona. Tantalizing over his impressive features and lean, muscled form didn't win a single argument yet. And he was too much of a dork for her to forgive him that fact, knowing he was probably keeping statistics of their bickering somewhere around his desk (statistics that she absolutely did not have herself – Clarke would _never_ ). So she kept herself low over the paper in front of her, pencil scratching and underlining words, shoulders hunched like a miniature shield. She had a few strands of her hair tied back, but it didn't help with the rest of it falling around her like a curtain.

In overall, she had all the necessary protection to keep away from Bellamy Blake's hungry eyes and prying fingers.

„Oh, come on now, Princess, that's no way to treat a colleague.“, his voice was dripping with mockery, and she hated his deep, rich voice like she hated beautiful sunsets because they made her tear up. „Also, you and I both know there's no one else I'd rather sniff.“, she looked up right then, one eyebrow perched up, mouth twitching with amusement at his suddenly terrified, frozen face. He quickly recollected himself. „ _Around_. Sniff around.“

„Whatever you say, Blake.“, she said, keeping her voice light with amusement, fully aware of the fact it would only make him more frustrated. „Oi!“

His arm bolted out of nowhere, grabbing the rough draft of her _to-be-the-best-ever_ article before she snatched it right back, watching as the sheet slipped through his fingers like in slow motion.

„Dammit.“, he cursed. Eyebrows hanging low over his eyes, he muttered darkly, „I don't suppose you'd just tell me what it is that you found.“

„Who says I found anything?“

„Raven was being nice to me this morning.“, he swallowed, eyebrows falling even lower, his pouting face making him look like a five year old whose candies were stolen. „I even got a doughnut.“

„That doesn't prove anything.“, she clipped off, eyes moving to her computer screen, the sheet of paper tucked safely into her jeans pocket. She glanced at the clock – she had less than ten minutes till lunch break, which was perfectly convenient for a quick read on some of the New Ark's opponent magazines.

„You being in a good mood does.“

„I'm not in a good mood. How could I be, with you within a 20 feet radius.“ Maybe she'd even do a quick crossword puzzle. Or she'd take one with her when she went to get her lunch?

„I wouldn't steal it, you know.“

She pondered over the possibility of calling her mother. Abby would probably be busy with work, which would then apply for the perfect chance to not see her anytime soon, with the excuse of 'I called and you couldn't make it'.

„Princess.“

She snapped her eyes back at his face, deeming his frown as inappropriate, considering there wasn't anything to be worried about. Unless she had something on her face? She quickly rubbed her palms over her cheeks, attempting to both look displeased, frustrated and not squemish with him at that close proximity, hands perched on her desk, freckles prominent and distracting, eyes mocking and sincere. „ _What_?“

„I said I wouldn't steal your damn article, alright?“

Clarke stared at him, trying to decipher the true meaning of his words. If he was joking, she'd be dumb to not joke/insult back, but if he wasn't, even a lengthy silence would offend him.

Honestly though, when had Bellamy ever said anything short of a mocking insult to her?

„Just thought you should realize that.“, he said, gulped and removed his eyes from her, detaching his hands from her desk and straightening, tucking his fists into his pockets. „Not everyone wishes to be you, Griffin.“

Clarke blinked once, her eyes like saucers and glued on his face, the twitching muscle in his clenched jaw, the furrow of his brows and the almost timid ( _timid? Bellamy Blake?_ ) look in his black eyes.

He stalked off, and for once, she wasn't left with only frustration and anger. Was she touched? Deeply insulted? Confused?

Surprised, Clarke opted. She was surprised, and she was going to have her lunch with Raven.

No mothers or antagonizing work opponents.


End file.
